Paradise Makes A Friend [O/S] [NEETpone/PiE]


                                            >You are Paradise Skies, the most anxious little pony on Earth, and boy, are you having a morning.

                                            >You went down to the cafeteria from the Comp Sci lab to grab a coffee, and you managed to get talking to the head chef after he noticed you struggling to work the coffee machine, and you can safely say that you didn't see your coffee run going this way.

                                            >His name is apparently Vadim, and he moved here for work from his homeland, Russia sometime in the "crazy 90's" as he puts it, and he looks about as old as the universe.

                                            >You've always wondered where he comes from, given his funny way of saying words, and given your limited knowledge on Earth history, he told you that "the weather is cold, and the people are colder" where he comes from.

                                            >Not understanding quite what he meant by that, you asked him to explain… And that is where you *definitely* made a mistake.

                                            >He did so by giving you the quick rundown on his country's history.

                                            >You were not ready to hear what he had to say.

                                            >…


                                            >"…And then things got worse."

                                            "B-but you said that last time! W-when does it get better? H-how could it possibly get any worse? Next you tell me they'll be eating each other!"

                                            >"Better?" Vadim laughed heartily "Things do not get better in my country… Is funny you mention that last thing, actually…"

                                            >You feel your face scrunch up in a mix of horror and sadness.

                                            >With a light chuckle, he stretches his arms and gets a solid crack out of his neck before continuing.

                                            >"Ahh… The motherland. How I miss it. Give me second small pony. I have something for you."

                                            >Turning around, he walks back around to the other side of the counter and goes off to get Celestia-knows-what from the little break room that you see all of the cook-staff cutting through to smoke whenever they get a five minute break.

                                            >Coming back as quickly as he went, Vadim returns with what seems to be a furry black hat in his large bear-like hand.

                                            >Reaching over the counter, he plonks it down on your head and pats it into place.

                                            >"Not everything bad though, we have these. It's an ushanka. You take, is for you. Keep small pony warm in cold climate."

                                            >Goodness, it *is* warm.

                                            >With a big beaming smile, you peak your eyes out from under the big floppy-eared hat and see the big old Ruskie man looking back at you with a light smile before you do a little happy dance on the spot.

                                            "A-are you sure…? T-thank you!"

                                            >Giving a light nod, he waves his hand at you and mutters something under his breath.

                                            >"It is alright, it suit you, you will grow into it eventually. I have mo- Eбтвoюмaть… A нy пoлoжи, кaк былo!""

                                            "I-I… W-wha…?"

                                            >Looking in the direction of where he was shouting, you see a bunch of freshers making a mess of the cans and sandwiches in the fridge.

                                            >"I am sorry small horse, I must go. I have work I must do."


                                            >No sooner than he finished his sentence, you see the big chunky old Russian chef hobble off towards the crowd of teenagers messing with his formerly neatly arranged fridges.

                                            >Having a little giggle to yourself, you watch him explode at them in his mother tongue before shooing them away while shaking a ladle at one of them angrily, as the offender in question waved his hands around, apologizing profusely.

                                            >Just as you're about to turn around to head back upstairs, you see Anon walking past the unfolding carnage on his way to grab something for lunch as well.

                                            "Oh…! Anon!"

                                            >Looking up and down at the chaos going on, Anon looks back at you with raised eyebrows and a look of surprise plastered across his face.

                                            >"What the Hell was that all about?"

                                            >Looking up at Anon, you give him a big smile and lean into his leg with a giggle, watching the insanity.

                                            "I made friends with the big chef, Vadim."

                                            >"Oh man, Vadim? You must have said something special, because he's got a reputation for being pretty stone-faced… What's that on your head anyways?"

                                            "I have a hat"